— — — — — —
"What kind of monstrous power is this…!" Garp and Zephyr's minds went completely blank as the overwhelming aura of magic swallowed all of Loguetown. The pressure didn't just linger; it kept spreading outward in waves, cutting down people like wheat before a scythe.
"Ahhh, that feels good," Milim stretched lazily, letting out a satisfied sigh.
Garp, forcing the words out through the crushing weight bearing down on him, managed to ask, "That ring… what the hell is it?"
"The ring?" Milim tilted her head and lifted her hand, grinning as she wiggled the piece of jewelry on her hand. "Oh, you mean this? It's a gift from my bestie. It's called the Dragon Seal. My magic power is way too much for this world to handle, so he gave it to me to suppress it. Normally it keeps me down to about a tenth of my strength. Which means—" her eyes sparkled mischievously, "—right now I'm ten times stronger than I was before."
The cheerful smile on her face sent a chill straight through both Garp and Zephyr. Just a moment ago she'd already been terrifying enough to singlehandedly wipe out the entire navy. And this was her… holding back? At ten times that power, she could probably erase the World Government itself if she felt like it.
Before either man could react, Milim vanished from sight. Darkness swallowed their vision, and then nothing.
When the dust settled, two enormous craters scarred the ground where the admirals had stood. Milim, humming happily, slipped the ring back onto her finger.
"Time to go find my bestie. He's definitely going to praise me for this! Heehee. Off I go!" With that, she shot into the sky like a meteor.
The funny thing was, Milim could still defeat them even with her ring on. But the one thing she picked up after all that time gaming, reading manga, and other stuff was the path of the greatest— Aura Farming.
---
Inside the prison labyrinth…
Sengoku was breathing hard, his robes in tatters and his Marine cape long gone. He looked utterly disheveled.
Towering in front of him stood a massive humanoid war machine, its metallic surface glinting strangely. Twin cannons bristled from its back, and it wielded two enormous swords crackling faintly with energy. Whether at close range or long, it was built to dominate.
Sengoku's mood was foul—beyond foul. Since entering this twisted labyrinth, they had been ambushed nonstop: man-eating plants, boulders falling from nowhere, hidden darts, flamethrowers. Worst of all, their Observation Haki had been sealed, leaving them blind in hostile territory. They had wandered aimlessly, unable to escape. By now, Roger was almost certainly gone.
Grinding his teeth, Sengoku raised his hand. "Everyone, with me. Let's take it down!"
"Impact Wave!"
Golden ripples erupted from his palm, compressing the air until it detonated in raw force. The machine was hurled back and slammed into the wall. The vice admirals immediately followed up with their strongest attacks.
"Tempest Kick Overlord!"
"Finger Pistol Gun Mode!"
"Two-Sword Style: Infinite Slash!"
Blow after blow rained down. The machine finally sparked, shuddered, and collapsed into a smoking heap.
But the Marines were barely standing. They had fought through more than ten different monsters already, their stamina and morale nearly drained to nothing.
Then the labyrinth's walls began to twist. The fallen robot faded away like a mirage.
Sengoku's brow furrowed sharply. They were in no condition for another battle. If something stronger appeared now, it could mean deaths—and that was unacceptable.
But no new monster came. Instead, the walls continued to ripple until the maze dissolved, leaving behind the familiar prison. The surroundings were quiet again, eerily so.
"It's reverted… which means Roger's already been taken," Sengoku muttered. The fleeting relief drained from his face, replaced by grim resignation. Without another word, he strode toward the cell where Roger had been kept, the vice admirals trailing silently behind.
When they reached it, the cell was empty. The seastone bars had been cleaved apart. Sengoku's hands trembled with fury, veins bulging on his fists. He inhaled slowly through his nose, forcing the anger down, then turned and walked away in silence. The vice admirals exchanged glances, but none dared speak. They simply followed.
"....."
Outside, the scene froze them all in place.
Every single Marine in the area lay sprawled unconscious. Loguetown itself was a wasteland of collapsed homes and ruined streets, each crater and shattered wall testifying to the ferocity of the battle.
Sengoku's gaze fell on the twin massive pits carved into the earth. His heart lurched. He leapt down into one and found Garp, battered but alive. Relief washed through him as he checked the man's pulse.
"Contact the World Government," Sengoku ordered coldly, hoisting Garp onto his shoulder. "Tell them what happened here. Have them send reinforcements immediately."
His thoughts were heavy. Who were these people? To defeat Garp, Kong, and Zephyr all in such a short time—could any human even accomplish that?
Sengoku's expression darkened. Roger's rescue would shake the world. The Government's authority would plummet, and with it, the Marines' power to maintain order.
The seas would not know peace again.
Carrying Garp, Sengoku walked in silence. This enemy was far beyond anything they had been prepared for.
— — —
Jura-Tempest Federation
"Where am I? What is this place?"
Roger rubbed his forehead. A dull ache lingered there, but that was nothing compared to the shock that followed when he looked down at his own hands.
Strength. Real strength. Power he hadn't felt in years.
Ever since he'd been ill, his body had wasted away day by day, until even lifting his arms had become an effort. By the end, he'd almost lost everything. Even if the Navy hadn't executed him, he doubted he would've lasted another day.
But now… his body thrummed with energy.
Roger stood, flexing his fists, feeling the raw vitality coursing through him. His lips curled into an unrestrained grin. No one truly wants to die. He'd wanted to live—live for his wife, for his friends. Once, that dream had been nothing but an unreachable fantasy. But now… now it might actually be possible.
He walked to the window, pushed it open, and was greeted by blinding sunlight and a sight that stole his breath.
A sprawling city stretched out before him, vast and magnificent, filled with towering buildings and bustling streets. But what shocked him most wasn't the city itself—it was who walked its streets.
Not just humans.
Werewolves strode through the markets. Elves with delicate wings flitted overhead. He even spotted pig-headed humanoids haggling over produce. High above, a massive dragon circled lazily, casting its shadow across the skyline, while gargantuan centipedes—each hundreds of meters long—crawled through the avenues, carrying groups of people on their armored backs like living caravans.
"What in the world…?" Roger whispered, eyes wide, almost dazed.
"Guest, you're awake?"
A soft voice startled him from behind.
"What—?!" Roger spun around. He hadn't even noticed anyone approaching.
A girl with long pink hair stood before him, a gentle smile on her lips. Small horns peeked out from her forehead.
"My name is Shuna," she said warmly. "I'm Lord Rimuru's secretary. I've been tasked with taking care of you."
"I see… thank you. Such a beautiful and kind young lady," Roger said with a laugh, genuinely grateful.
Her smile softened. "Thank you for the compliment. Lord Rimuru is waiting in the office. Please follow me."
Roger trailed after her as she led the way, making small talk along the path.
"So, Shuna… would you be free for dinner sometime?" Roger asked with his trademark grin.
"Huh?"
Before she could answer, a sharp, hostile voice cut in.
Roger turned his head and found himself staring into the fierce eyes of a red-haired young man radiating murderous intent.
"Did I… say something wrong?" Roger asked nervously.
"She's my sister," Benimaru said flatly, his glare like a drawn blade.
"Uh…" Roger scratched the back of his head, realizing his blunder. Flirting with someone's little sister right in front of them—yeah, not his brightest moment. He gave a sheepish laugh.
"Hmph." Benimaru snorted coldly, stepped directly between Roger and Shuna, and didn't look back. His very posture screamed: 'Anyone who touches my sister dies.'
Roger wisely shut his mouth and followed in silence.
Along the way, humans, elves, and beastmen alike greeted Benimaru and Shuna with respect. Both returned every greeting warmly. It was clear they were deeply loved by the people here.
Before long, Roger was led into a massive council chamber, already crowded with figures. At the head of the table sat Rimuru, listening to reports from subordinates with the casual authority of a ruler. Of course he was—he wasn't just any Demon Lord, but the monarch of this entire nation. After being away for so long, it was only natural he'd be buried in state affairs.
"Roger! You're finally up!" Rimuru called out happily. "Come, sit here."
Roger nodded and took the seat beside him.
"This is Gol D. Roger, the Pirate King," Rimuru introduced with a smile. "In his world, he's a legend. A man truly worthy of respect."
Roger chuckled awkwardly, then turned to Rimuru. "Rimuru, what exactly is going on? Why am I here? And… what is this place?"
"Could you not throw all your questions at once?" Rimuru sighed with mock exasperation. "You've been unconscious for three months. This is another world entirely—my kingdom, the Jura-Tempest Federation."
"Another world?" Roger blinked, baffled. "What do you mean… another world?"
"This isn't the world of One Piece," a tall, elegant man beside Rimuru explained. "When you collapsed, Lord Rimuru brought you here."
Roger studied him curiously. "And you are…?"
"My name is Diablo, first secretary to Lord Rimuru," the man said with a graceful bow. "I am a Demon."
Roger froze. "A… demon?!"
"It's fine, it's fine. Diablo isn't a bad demon," Rimuru interjected quickly. "Anyway, explanations can wait. Roger, everyone—today I gathered you all because there's something important to discuss. But let's wait for the rest to arrive."
"The rest?" Veldora tilted his head. "Rimuru, don't tell me you've invited all of them?"
Roger frowned. "Them? Who are you talking about?"
"The other Demon Lords, of course," Rimuru said cheerfully. "You've already met Milim and Ramiris. There are five more, and even that guy over there—yes, the one napping—is a Demon Lord too."
Roger's jaw nearly dropped. "Wait… there are this many Demon Lords? Then what about heroes? Don't tell me there are none of those. That'd be… way too depressing."
.
.
.